


Twisted

by TheMulletWhisperer



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Betrayal, Branding, Crying, Depressing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'm trapped in a vile world, Pain, Save Me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7445656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMulletWhisperer/pseuds/TheMulletWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lines begin to twist and blur, creating only pain and suffering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened. There's some really really dark stuff in this so I would not continue if you're worried about that kind of thing. Pretty graphic violence. 
> 
> Also thanks @Imdex for inspiring this piece and managing to make me depress myself at 12 in the morning! :'D

Galina mumbled and rolled over in bed, reaching over to see if Arkved was awake. Indeed, it seemed he was, as his side of the bed was empty and, furthermore, cold. This struck her as rather odd, due to the fact that it was pitch-black outside the house, with only tiny ribbons of moonlight illuminating the oak floors. Deciding to make sure that he hadn’t gone off and gotten himself killed by a butterfly, she slid off the mattress and wiggled her toes against the cold planks. Standing and stretching, she made her way for the door, wrapping her robe around her and tying it off with the torn strip of fabric she used to hold it together. 

Immediately, she could tell something was off. The cabin door was wide open. With an extraordinary caution, she crept towards the door, grabbing her sword from a nearby rack and unsheathing it. 

As the cold night air hit her, she could feel the hackles on her neck rise, and she wasn’t sure if it was the air or something else.

“Arkved?!” She called out into the night air, her voice echoing. 

“Galina.” Arkved’s voice came from behind, unmistakable in sound, but in tone...something was off.

And that something became obvious. Noting the telltale sounds of a weapon swinging, the swooshing of air, the rustling of clothing, she spun around, turning her weapon horizontal and placing her palm on the flat of the blade. Steel clashed with steel and Arkved, the visage of innocence, now looked viscerally angry. Her confusion gave him enough time to break her defense, a swift knee to the gut effectively knocking all the wind out of her and sending her to her hands and knees. 

The feeling of tears prickling her eyes was ignored--she needed to focus on the fight first. A losing fight. By the time she’d tried to stand, he’d kicked her hard in the ribs and sent her to her back, coughing pitifully. With no hope of victory, her sword out of sight and the Altmer above her, she resigned herself to begin crying, clutching her bruised stomach with both arms. 

Arkved gave a chilling laugh, crouching down over her and examining her shaking form. “Mmn...look at you. Galina Alkaev, slayer of Thalmor, at the mercy of such a lowly Justiciar. How you have fallen.”

“A-Ark...ved?” Though her voice was broken by gasps for air and whimpers, she managed to choke the word out.

“Yes, Arkved. But not the Arkved you knew, no.” He stood and placed his boot on her throat, pressing hard until she couldn’t breathe and her hands clawed and punched uselessly against his armored sabaton. “No, you see, the Arkved you knew was never real. The Arkved that the Thalmor knew was an Inquisitor, an Agent, if you will. Tasked with eliminating a rather pesky nuisance.” Galina tried to form words, but he could see her eyelids growing heavy as she fought for consciousness. “The thing is, they never told me how quickly you had to die. And you seemed so...scrumptious, for a human, I simply had to have a taste. A taste that has been well savored by now, and I do believe it is time to swallow it and move on, don’t you?”

He smiled cruelly. He knew she couldn’t respond. Lifting his boot off her throat, he simply watched as she gasped for air between coughs, and a swift kick to the ribs certainly didn’t help the process. Not that he much cared. Arkved crouched down and grabbed her by the collar, dragging her inside to the carpet before the fireplace. Quite certain she wasn’t going to go anywhere, he grabbed one of the hot pokers and rummaged around in his bag for a moment before retrieving his quarry--a branding iron with the sigil of the Thalmor on it. 

Realizing what was about to happen, Galina tried to crawl away, but found herself quickly pinned back to the ground as he crouched over her with the iron in hand, white-hot.

“But now that I’ve spent time with you...sampling you...I think it would be a waste to throw your life away. No...you would be far better suited as a fucktoy for the rest of the Embassy. I, of course, will reserve...special access, yes? But where oh where does this go...ah, yes.”

He reached down and tore her gown open, exposing her and readying the iron. “Right in place so that anyone who uses you will never forget that you belong to them.” Galina tried to fight, but she couldn’t move her arms. They felt as they’d been filled with lead as the iron pressed against her flesh, right below her collarbone. For a moment, she felt nothing, then a pain so intense that she nearly blacked out.

Arkved tossed the iron back into the fire, situating himself above her and grabbing her throat with a gloved hand. “Now...let us get you situated, queen?”

His hand crept lower and lower…

=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=

Galina shot up with her back straight as an arrow. The first thing she was aware of was her wet cheeks, the second of someone wrapping their arms around her. Though she gave a little start, she melted into the embrace when she realized it was Arkved. Realized it’d been a dream.

Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she began openly sobbing. She could hear him saying _ something _ , but she wasn’t totally paying attention. All she knew was that she was safe, sound, and some sort of mix between terrified and overwhelmingly relieved. 

“I...h..had…” She tried to choke something out, but only managed to effectively curl into him harder. As he spoke, she managed to make out his words, “A-are...are you okay?”

“I had..had...a nightmare, I thought...thought you were...were going to…” Once again, she broke down into sobs, her mind only barely registering his fingers gliding through her hair. In lieu of speech, he simply remained silent, hugging her tightly and petting the back of her head.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that, for all his bumbling innocence, sometimes he knew exactly what to do.


End file.
